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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25316182">Attached</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cozy_The_Overlord/pseuds/Cozy_The_Overlord'>Cozy_The_Overlord</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Loki - Fandom, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types, Thor (Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Character Death, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Loki actually died at the end of Thor 1, Pre-Thor and Post-Thor, Sad Ending, Star Wars and Asgard are in the same universe, Takes place during the Clone Wars, This is a really weird idea but I'm running with it, because why not</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 02:47:52</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,518</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25316182</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cozy_The_Overlord/pseuds/Cozy_The_Overlord</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Her master warned her not to get too attached. If only she had listened.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>AU where Asgard and Star Wars coexist and Loki actually died at the end of the first Thor movie.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Loki (Marvel)/OFC, Loki (Marvel)/Original Female Character(s), Loki (Marvel)/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Attached</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Based on the song "Brave Enough" by Lindsey Stirling. If you haven't heard it before, you should definitely check it out-- it always gets me right in the feels.</p>
<p>Thanks for reading! :)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sydaya was drowning. And yet still, in the hologram, Master Windu continued talking, his unaffected monotone detailing the situation as easily as if he was relaying the weather forecast.</p>
<p>
  <em>Prince Loki is dead. Bring an umbrella to the funeral.</em>
</p>
<p>She was drowning, but no one saw. Her master was nodding at the hologram, expression emotionless, not sparing even a glance. Clones made their way back and forth across the bridge, to enraptured in their own assignments to take note of the small padawan choking on her own breath. There was a ball clogging her throat, a pulsating little lump that grew heavier with ever swallow. She couldn’t breathe</p>
<p>When she reached out through the Force, reached out for him, there was nothing. A gaping hole where he had once stood, the overwhelming emptiness swirling in the frozen depths of space.</p>
<p>
  <em>He’s gone.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>He’s gone.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>He’s gone.</em>
</p>
<p>Sydaya didn’t realize that the meeting had been adjourned until her master reached out to rub her shoulder.</p>
<p>“Are you alright, ‘Daya?” he asked.</p>
<p>She nodded mutely. It was a trained response, and a complete lie—he could sense the crashing waves pulling her under as acutely as she did. But there was a time and place for everything, and the bridge of a packed Jedi cruiser was <em>not</em> the place for a mental breakdown. So she nodded and kept drowning, and he patted her shoulder because he knew.</p>
<p>He had known since that first night on Asgard. It was amazing, really, how he could read her feelings like a book even when she felt they were written in another language. He had known, and he had warned her.</p>
<p>
  <em>“Don’t get too attached.”</em>
</p>
<p>Sydaya had laughed. <em>Attached?</em> It seemed ridiculous. Prince Loki was engaging, to be sure—she had made sure to sit across from him at dinner, rather than his headache of an older brother. At first, she had feared Loki would be a something of a headache as well.</p>
<p>“I’ve never met a Jedi before,” he had said after they had been introduced. He smirked. “I rather thought you’d be a bit taller.”</p>
<p>The padawan prickled. “Well, I’ve met plenty of princes,” she said, picking at her food with her fork, “So I rather thought you’d at least be a <em>bit</em> attractive.”</p>
<p>“Sydaya!” her master had hissed, but Loki was laughing.</p>
<p>They talked the rest of the night. He was a very smart boy—for all his teasing Sydaya realized he actually did know quite a bit about how the Jedi Order worked, which was refreshing, to say the least. She returned to her rooms that night with a high opinion of the young prince. Her master’s warning caught her off guard.</p>
<p>“Don’t worry, Master,” she chuckled as she closed her bedroom door, “I won’t.” Her conversation with Loki had been the result of nothing more than simple curiosity between both parties. And curiosity was <em>hardly</em> the same thing as attachment, now was it?</p>
<p>It may have been a stepping stone, though. Sydaya likely wouldn’t have continued to spend so much time with him if he didn’t intrigue her so. She had never met a person trained in the ways of the Force who didn’t wear a lightsaber on his hip. And it was such a <em>strange</em> side of the Force he used, too. Later that week, when he took her walking through his mother’s gardens, he tried to scare her with the illusion of a snake winding around her boot. He found her to be more fascinated than frightened.</p>
<p>“How did you do that?” she asked excitedly as the scaly creature faded away in a burst of light. “Can you show me?”</p>
<p>Loki studied her with an odd sort of expression, as if she were a piece of abstract art he couldn’t quite understand. “If you’d like,” he said. “It’s not that difficult.”</p>
<p>It wasn’t difficult. It was downright <em>impossible</em>. They sat under the big ash tree for ages, with him throwing out useless pieces of advice as he conjured complex illusions and she struggled to create even a glimmer. It would’ve gone on forever if Sydaya’s master hadn’t rung her commlink and requested her presence in the throne room.</p>
<p>“I think their teaching is flawed back at the Temple,” Loki teased as they made their way down the brick paths of the gardens. “I’ve seen children master illusion work quicker than you.”</p>
<p>She shot him a glare. “If there’s flawed teaching here, it’s yours, your highness. Your instructions were shit.”</p>
<p>“Is that the professional term for it?”</p>
<p>He laughed as she swatted his arm.</p>
<p>He was right, it turned out. When Sydaya returned to the Temple, she asked Madame Jocasta about the art of illusions and how to learn it. The librarian said that since Jedi teaching focused on using the Force to find peace, it was incredibly difficult for a Jedi to master such a chaotic form. Very few could manage it.</p>
<p>Sydaya never told him though.</p>
<p>And now he’d never know.</p>
<p>Sydaya leaned against the window, watching the kaleidoscope of hyperspace dance outside the glass. The hanger doors wouldn’t open while they were at light speed, but for a moment she pictured they did, how she would be sucked through the roof, into the unforgiving vacuum of space. Her body would shatter at the inhuman speed, millions of tiny pieces coating the cruiser’s white paint. By the time they managed to stop, she’d be scattered across hundreds of different star systems.</p>
<p>Like tiny pieces of glass.</p>
<p>She fingered the glass charm that hung around her neck, ran her fingers over the rough edges she had painstakingly glued back together after it had shattered on the floor of her cockpit. It had happened a few months ago, maybe two weeks after she had last seen Loki. The chain that held it to her neck had broken as she swooped over Lessu in her fighter, three vulture droids on her tail. She had felt it slip, heard it crash, but couldn’t afford to tear her attention away from the battle.</p>
<p>She had spent the next day tenderly picking the pieces from the cockpit, fitting them back together until the little lantern charm looked something near to the way it had when Loki had first pressed it into her palm.</p>
<p>“It’s just a little something,” he whispered, lips curled in a secret smile. They had been standing so close to each other that she could feel the warmth of his breath on her cheek. “Just so you don’t forget me, what with all the attractive princes you run into.”</p>
<p>Sydaya could still see the glow of the setting summer sun enveloping him like a halo, as if he were still there, fingers slipping through hers as he let go of her hand. The glass lantern dangling from the chain was green, like his eyes. Sydaya had never met anyone with as vibrantly colored eyes as Loki Odinson. She had noticed his eyes more and more throughout the summer, sea-green pools so deep she could almost swim in them. Loki could speak using nothing but his eyes. They said things neither of them could ever say aloud, asked questions she was afraid to answer.</p>
<p>The clasp on the chain was foreign to her. He had to help her put the necklace on, hooking it together from behind her while she held her hair up so he could see. There was that thrill in her chest then, too—a warm, fluttery feeling that popped up whenever he entered a room.</p>
<p>
  <em>Don’t get too attached.</em>
</p>
<p>The reason Sydaya and her master remained on Asgard for a full summer was because of the war, of course (wasn’t that the reason for everything?). Odin wanted to keep his Nine Realms out of the conflict, but the Republic was in desperate need to use trade routes through his territory, and so they were tasked with convincing the king to open the Nine Realms for Republic ships. It was diplomacy at its most tedious, and Sydaya had not been enthused.</p>
<p>Loki changed that.</p>
<p>Never had she imagined that she would enjoy “taking a turn” through the gardens, but time seemed to pass quicker when they were wandering through the brick paths together. They would talk for hours about anything—the war, the Force, life, death, Thor’s incapability to chew with his mouth closed. They always seemed to come back to the Order. Loki was endlessly fascinated with the Jedi way of life.</p>
<p>“I don’t get your code,” he said one day.</p>
<p>Sydaya arched an eyebrow. “It’s pretty straightforward,” she said. “<em>There is no emotion, there is—</em>”</p>
<p>“That’s what I don’t get,” he interrupted. “There <em>is</em> emotion. You get angry, or happy, or embarrassed—I’ve seen you. Those are all emotions.”</p>
<p>“Well, yes, but I can <em>control</em> my emotions,” Sydaya emphasized. This question came up often when she was talking to civilians, and she felt she had gotten rather good at answering it. “I’m not blinded by passion, or attachment—”</p>
<p>“That’s another thing! You can’t go through life without forming attachment to something.” Loki waved his hands in frustration. Sydaya frowned. She rarely saw him this passionate over a topic. “You can’t form meaningful relationships with people without developing some form of attachment to them!”</p>
<p>“There’s a difference between having compassion and having attachments,” she said calmly. “My master has compassion for me—he’s my master, of course he does—but that compassion doesn’t blind him to reality. He knows what’s most important. If he must let me go for the greater good, he will be able to.”</p>
<p>Loki gaped at her. “And you’re okay with that?”</p>
<p>“Well, yeah. It’s the way things are.” Sydaya had never really thought about it as being something she needed to be <em>okay</em> with. It was just a part of life. She was trained to be able to let go. Attachment was dangerous—that’s why her master had warned her about getting close to Loki. Although… it would be hard to let Loki go, if it came down to it. She could do it though.</p>
<p>Couldn’t she?</p>
<p>Loki seemed unaware of the flush growing across her cheeks. “Should that be the way things are?” he asked. “I mean—take away your emotion, your attachment, and you’re no different from the droids you’re waging war against.”</p>
<p>She looked at him, the raven-haired prince standing in the sunlight, eyes deep enough to drown in, and inhaled. She felt the thrill in her chest, one of the first times she <em>really</em> felt it.</p>
<p>
  <em>I’m not an emotionless droid, Loki. That’s my problem.</em>
</p>
<p> “Can we talk about something else?”</p>
<p>Love was a frightening word. It was attachment, but deeper. It was emotion, but wilder. Love was an uncontrollable beast that once awakened could not be put to sleep again. When the word love began floating around her consciousness, she squashed it like a bug. She didn’t <em>love </em>Loki. He was a friend. A close friend, but still. Just. A. Friend.</p>
<p>
  <em>But was he though?</em>
</p>
<p>The cruiser entered the Asgard System. She followed her master into the smaller ship, sinking into her spot in the copilot’s seat without a word.</p>
<p>“Remember,” he said as he fired up the engines. “We won’t be lingering long. We’re here because Odin requested our presence for the funeral. No other reason.”</p>
<p>Sydaya didn’t trust herself to speak. She only nodded.</p>
<p>Her master sighed. “I am sorry, ‘Daya. I know you liked him.”</p>
<p>Hot tears dotted her vision. Panicked, she blinked them away. Jedi didn’t cry. Jedi were strong and brave and unattached, and that’s what she was going to be, damn it!</p>
<p>
  <em>There is no emotion, there is peace.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>There is no emotion, there is peace.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>No emotion. Peace.</em>
</p>
<p>Master Windu said that the Bifrost had been destroyed, but Sydaya hadn’t really comprehended what that really meant until she saw the shattered remains of the Rainbow Bridge. The crystal monstrosity that had stretched across Asgard’s sea had been snapped in half, the jagged remains jutting out over the water like teeth. Heimdall’s observatory was gone, a victim of the waves and the Void beneath.</p>
<p>Her master studied the wreckage over her shoulder. “It’s probably for the best,” he said. “That system of travel was hilariously outdated. Rather dangerous, too.”</p>
<p>Sydaya’s thoughts were not with the Bifrost however. Loki had gone over the edge. That was all they had been told. There was a fight, the Bifrost was destroyed, and Loki had gone over the edge.</p>
<p>“Was it quick, do you think?” she whispered hoarsely.</p>
<p>Her master followed her gaze to the swirling Void. “I hope so,” he said softly. “For both of your sakes, I hope so.”</p>
<p>They were greeted by the Einherjar when they exited their ship as King Odin’s special guests. Sydaya fought the urge to scoff. She doubted Odin gave much of a shit about their presence here. Loki had always seemed exhausted by his father, and Sydaya could see why. Odin didn’t exactly <em>mistreat</em> his second son as much as he… ignored him. Loki had an astute, strategic mind, but you wouldn’t realize it by being in Odin’s court. For as much as Thor got to blather on about his plans of war and slaughter, Loki hardly got in a word. It wasn’t for lack of trying—Sydaya had witnessed many a time when the younger prince had begun to speak, only to have the topic of conversation deftly changed on him by his father. It was subtle but noticeable, and it made Sydaya’s blood boil.</p>
<p>“How do you put up with it?” she cried once after they had been freed from court for the day. “I’d be ready to <em>throttle</em> him!”</p>
<p>Loki shrugged. “I suppose I’m used to it. He’s always been an arse.” They were sitting under the ash tree, that same ash tree where he had tried to teach her to conjure illusions a few weeks earlier, watching as the sun dipped below the horizon. It was quiet, and it was peaceful, the cool crisp of night just beginning to settle over the garden. Sydaya loved these moments. It was the closest she had ever come to feeling the serenity described in the Jedi code.</p>
<p>“Just because you’re used to it doesn’t mean it’s alright,” she murmured.</p>
<p>“Perhaps, but there’s nothing I can do about it,” he sighed. “This helps though. Getting away, getting out.” He paused uncertainly. “You being here.”</p>
<p>Her cheeks burned. When she turned to look at him, she found he was watching her with an intensity she was afraid to match. Sydaya focused on picking at the grass instead. “Really?” she whispered without looking up.</p>
<p>“Yes,” he said. “Really.”</p>
<p>The dummy they had in the boat looked nothing like Loki. She understood that they didn’t have an actual body, but they could’ve at least made it <em>somewhat</em> resemble the prince. The skin was too pale. The nose was wrong. The hair was too light, and too long—he had always kept it slicked back, to make it look shorter than it was, but she supposed whoever had designed this thing couldn’t be bothered with that little detail. Sydaya ripped her eyes away. She hated this.</p>
<p>She <em>hated</em> this.</p>
<p>Queen Frigga came by to greet her master shortly before the ceremony began. Sydaya stiffened when she pulled her into a hug, gripping her shoulders more tightly than she ever recalled anyone doing before.</p>
<p>“I’m sorry for your loss, your Majesty,” she said, taking every bit of her strength to maintain her cool tone.</p>
<p>Frigga nodded. “And I’m sorry for yours.” Sydaya looked up in shock. The Queen smiled down at her, patting her shoulder soothingly. “I’m glad you could come. He would’ve wanted you to be here.”</p>
<p>By the time she left to join her husband, Sydaya was shaking, nails digging into her sides as she fought for control over the tears flooding her vision.</p>
<p>Her master reached for her. “’Daya—”</p>
<p>“I’m fine!”</p>
<p>
  <em>There is no emotion, there is peace.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>There is no ignorance, there is knowledge.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>There is no passion, there is serenity.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>There is no chaos, there is harmony.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>There is no death, there is the Force.</em>
</p>
<p>But the code was wrong. Loki was dead, and the Force offered her no comfort.</p>
<p>The sun had set, and the ceremony was beginning. Sydaya had never been to an Asgardian funeral before, but she been to plenty of Jedi ones, and from what she understood, they had similarities. Strip down the glitz and glamor and they were roughly the same. They both burned the body, albeit for different reasons.</p>
<p>She had argued with Loki about that, once, a lifetime ago.</p>
<p>“The point of burning a body is to release its energy back into the Force!” she said. “Why else would you bother?”</p>
<p>He rolled his eyes. “Not <em>everything</em> is about the Force, ‘Daya. Burning the body allows the spirit to ascend to Valhalla.”</p>
<p>“That’s not how it works,” she insisted, shaking her head. “You don’t maintain your spirit when you die, you become a part of the Living Force. It’s a cycle—”</p>
<p>“Oh?” Loki turned back to her, smiling incredulously. “And have you died before, Padawan? Do you know something you’re not telling the rest of us?”</p>
<p>“You have no evidence of the existence of Valhalla, or whatever the hell you call it.”</p>
<p>“The burden of proof isn’t on me—you have to be the one to <em>disprove</em> it.”</p>
<p>She glowered at him. “I can prove that the Force is real.” She lifted a rock on the ground using her mind and let it hover over her hand. “I can prove that it’s a part of everything around us.” She waved her hand, and several other rocks began levitating from the gardens, encircling them. “Critically speaking, the smallest number of assumptions is usually correct. Therefore, seeing as you have no proof of Valhalla—” the rocks dropped suddenly to the ground, kicking up clouds of dust “—my theory is the superior one.”</p>
<p>Loki was unimpressed. “That theory doesn’t work for everything.”</p>
<p>She smirked. “But I think it works for this.”</p>
<p>It had been a stupid argument, not unlike others they had had throughout the summer. It was one of the nice things about their relationship—they could argue over something until the sun went down and still walk away as friends. But suddenly, sitting here at his funeral, Sydaya felt overwhelmingly guilty. Who had she been to disagree with his beliefs? What right did she have to tell him he was wrong?</p>
<p>Because it didn’t matter. They were still here. With no body to burn.</p>
<p>She rubbed the lantern charm between her thumb and forefinger, relishing the way the rough glass scratched at her skin. He had asked her a question when he had given it to her, the night before she was to return to Coruscant, a question without words. She remembered the way his fingers traced along the back of her neck after he had clasped the chain, how he had whispered her name like a secret. Sydaya had turned to look into his eyes, and he reached out to cup her cheek, smoothing his thumb over her skin.</p>
<p>He would’ve kissed her, if she asked. She knew it in her soul, more strongly than she had ever known anything before. And she had wanted him to kiss her. She wanted to run her hands through his slickened hair as he held her in his arms and told her that he loved her.</p>
<p>But love was a frightening word.</p>
<p>“I can’t do this,” she whispered, pulling away.</p>
<p>Loki stepped back immediately, looking stricken. “Of-of course,” he stuttered. “Forgive me, I wasn’t thinking—”</p>
<p>“It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.” Sydaya stared at her boots. She couldn’t look at him. They had walked back to the palace in silence.</p>
<p>She left with her master the next day. Loki didn’t come to see her off.</p>
<p>The flaming arrow was shot from somewhere to her left. She didn’t notice until the boat across the water erupted in flames.</p>
<p>Would it still work, even though it wasn’t really Loki’s body? Would his spirit still fly to Valhalla? Only yesterday she would’ve said that the very concept of such a place was ridiculous but now she was praying that it was real with every fiber of her being.</p>
<p>
  <em>Please, just let it be real for him. Let him be up there playing with his snake illusions and smirking down at me because I was wrong. </em>
</p>
<p>Who was she even praying to? Sydaya had no idea. Before her, the flaming boat went over the waterfall, fading from sight.</p>
<p>When Loki had told her that she couldn’t go through life without forming attachment, she had thought he just didn’t understand the Jedi way. That was okay—why should he? He wasn’t raised by the Jedi Code. He didn’t have to understand it.</p>
<p>But he had been right. He had been right about everything.</p>
<p>
  <em>I loved you, Loki. I wasn’t brave enough to tell you, but I loved you. I hope you know that, somehow.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>I’m so sorry.</em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks again for reading my work! I'd appreciate any comments or feedback you are willing to give.</p>
<p>If you enjoyed this story, feel free to check out my Tumblr (@cozy-the-overlord)!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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